


He Flies By His Own Wings

by Flantastic



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 00Q Reverse Bang, Anal Sex, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Q, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Rescue Missions, Rimming, wing!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flantastic/pseuds/Flantastic
Summary: James Bond's life is at Skyfall now, the days of being 007 long gone... or so he thought.An unexpected visit by M sends him on a mission to rescue another ex-employee of Mi6.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cailecz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cailecz/gifts).



> Written as part of the 2018-2019 00Q Reverse Big Bang.
> 
> I chose the fabulous artwork by Cai as I couldn't resist. I haven't written a Wing!fic before and I'm always a sucker for a big old pile of hurt/comfort. 
> 
> Tags will be updated with each chapter.

 

_Before_

 

It was her death that sent him over the edge in the end.

Not in the lunatic, violent way that some of his detractors might have guessed, but in a quiet, one might almost say ‘peaceful’, way.  He had simply realised that night that he didn’t want to be 007 anymore.

As he’d cradled Olivia Mansfield in his arms and felt her last faltering breath leave her body, his destiny suddenly changed.  His future as an agent, his eventual death in the field or, if he’d been lucky, promotion to a senior position in Mi6… whatever he’d thought might happen, it was all gone.  It all changed for him the very moment she died.

He’d gone back to Vauxhall.  He’d allowed Medical to attend to him, he’d let analysts debrief him but ultimately, when the new M had said “So, 007... Lots to be done. Are you ready to get back to work?” he had shaken his head.

He wasn’t ready.

He never was again.

 

 

~00Q~

 

 

_Now_

 

James swung the axe with practised ease, neatly chopping the seasoned log in half.  He had debated doing away with the fireplaces when he’d set about rebuilding Skyfall but he’d realised that the open roaring fires were one of the few things that he’d actually truly loved about the house. 

It had taken him nearly three years to rebuild and restore the property.  Kincade had wanted James to move into his small house in the local village with him while he worked on it but James had been happy to stay on site in an old caravan he’d purchased in Inveraray for five hundred quid.  The winters had been bitterly cold but James had coped, guiding the local team of builders that he’d hired to assist him, while carrying out much of the work himself.  The house was unrecognisable now.  Still dour and forbidding from the outside it was now sleek and modern inside.  There was a state-of-the-art solar panel system on the roof that supplied him with all the electricity he needed, even in the long cold dark winter months, a system for pumping and purifying water from the local Loch, triple-glazed windows for keeping in the heat, underfloor heating and thick insulation.  In short, the house was now as cool in the summer as it had ever been but it was also cosy and warm on the cold winter nights.

James split a final log before straightening up and flexing his wings.  He hadn’t flown for a few days and he debated taking off before staring at the darkening sky.  It was getting late and the chill in the air made him think that they might see more snow that night.  He inhaled.  It certainly smelt that way.  Christmas had been and gone and January had been bitterly cold but February looked set to be even colder.  James decided he would wait until morning to fly the boundaries of his land.  The estate had once boasted almost seven thousand acres, now it was closer to two thousand.  Local farmers used his land for their sheep and cattle which he was happy for them to do but he liked to keep an eye on them, make sure they didn’t stray too close to the house.  He flapped his wings a few times and then folded them, ruffling them to settle his feathers.  He heard a shout and he looked up to see his groundskeeper Kincade coming in to land.

“Hey there laddie.  How goes it?”

“Good.” James replied, starting to put his firewood into a basket.  “You’re out late.  I thought you’d be headed for the Golden Feathers this time of night.”

“Aye, I would have and most likely be supping my first pint by now but there was a phone call for you at my house and the man asked me to come by an’ tell ye.”

James stopped what he was doing and looked up, instantly suspicious.  He’d made a point of not installing a landline during the renovations and he rarely turned his mobile phone on these days, protective as he was of his privacy and isolation.  He wondered who would go to the bother of trying to track him down through Kincade.

“What man?” He asked.

Kincade reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Said to tell you his name is Mallory and he’ll be coming to see you tonight and could you please resist the urge to shoot him on sight.  Friend of yours, is he?”

“Ex-boss.” James replied, picking up the rest of his wood.

“Ahh.” Kincade said, suddenly realising.  “He’d be the lad that replaced your Emma, would he?”

James smiled at the memory of _his_ M.  The woman who’d recruited him and been almost like a mother to him.  Kincade had instantly taken a shine to her when they’d met and still affectionately referred to her as ‘Emma’ after mishearing her designation when they were first introduced.

“He is.  Listen Kincade, if he’s coming here, there’ll likely be trouble following him.  Do me a favour and make yourself scarce, would you?”

“If there’s trouble I’ll not be going anywhere laddie…”  The old man began, fluffing up his feathers irritably.

“No… look.  It’ll be Government business and I’ll bet you anything it’ll be classified.  Please just stay away for a day or two... I can’t think what he might want here.”

Kincade frowned but he nodded.

“Alright.  You call me if you need any help though.  And for God’s sake don’t let the bastards blow yer house up again.”

James laughed and shook his head.

“I will… and I won’t, I promise!”

He watched as Kincade turned and took a couple of quick steps before taking off again.  Every human had wings and it was a natural thing to mentally compare a person’s wings to the bird’s that they resembled.  James had been told that his looked like a Golden Eagle’s but Kincade’s looked like they belonged on a Barn Owl, soft and brown with pale flight feathers.  James watched as he flew off in the direction of the pub.  He was a good man.  One of the few that James had any time for anymore.  He frowned.  M knew that James had effectively cut himself off from the outside world and he wondered what the hell he was thinking coming to visit.  He supposed he would find out in good time.

Picking up his basket of logs, James went back towards the house.  He paused for a moment to look at the crest carved into the keystone above the front door, a winged man in flight, naked except for a wisp of material, armed with a flaming sword.  Below it, the family motto; _Alis Volat Propriis_ – ‘he flies by his own wings’.   James had always tried his hardest to live by the words, once as an agent and then again as a private citizen.  His great-grandfather had carved the keystone and it had been one of the few things that had survived Silva’s attack. James had restored it to its rightful position himself. 

After a moment of quiet reflection, the cold wind blew making him shiver.  With a shudder he went into the warmth of the house.

 

~00Q~

 

James was sitting in his lounge, reading, when he first heard the twin engines of a helicopter approaching across the glen.  He frowned as he carefully marked his place in his book with a four-leafed clover that he’d found in the meadow the previous year.  By the time he had passed through the darkened hallway to reach the front door, the aircraft was coming in to land.  There was a cunningly recessed cupboard by the door and from it James took out a loaded 12-bore shotgun.  He cocked it and waited with the door closed until the rotors started to slow down.  He hated helicopters, really hated them.  If God had intended man to fly that way he would have given them rotor blades, not wings.  That wasn’t to say that he couldn’t fly a helicopter, he just abhorred the unnatural feeling one got when moving through the air without flexing one’s own wings.  He peered out into the gloom.  He had no real reason to doubt that it was M on board but he’d been an agent for too long to let a few years of retirement blunt his edges.

The screaming engines had cycled down when he eventually opened the door to the sight of Gareth Mallory trotting towards him, his shoulders hunched against the remains of the down-draft, a briefcase clutched to his chest.  James stood his ground, the gun resting easy in a loose grip, ready to use at a moment’s notice.

Mallory came to a stop in front of him.

“Bond.”  He said.  “Good to see you.”

“What do you want?”  James asked, not moving.

M hesitated as if he’d expected James to simply step aside.

“I need your help.”

James didn’t react, waiting for a better explanation before letting the man into his home.  M gave it to him.

“ _Q_ needs your help.  Can’t be an active double-oh although it bloody well should be.  He deserves as much.”

James must have looked surprised.  He’d only known the young man for a short while.  Why would _he_ need help?  And why would it have to be from James?  He had to grudgingly admit, he was intrigued.

“Can I come in now?”  M asked, a little impatiently and no wonder; he was dressed in a three-piece suit as if he’d just stepped out of his office and it was starting to snow.  James ignored him for a moment to glance past him and count three more men.  The pilot and two others. Bodyguards, most likely, about to scope out the grounds.  He watched as the two outside checked their radios and then took off to patrol the skies around the house.  James stepped back finally and lowered his gun.

“You’d better.”

As Mallory walked past him into the house James watched the pilot in the helicopter settle back into his seat and open a book, before he closed the front door firmly.  He put the gun back into its hidey hole. Mallory was slipping out of his damp jacket and shaking out his black and white feathers as he followed him up the hallway.   _Magpie_ , James thought automatically.  M looked as if he was about to step through to the lounge until James stopped him with a softly-spoken word.

“Shoes.”

M nodded and dropped to one knee to untie his laces.  James kicked off his own ratty old trainers and then walked past him into the lounge.  He went to his small drinks cabinet where he poured out two generous whiskeys, dropping a sizeable chunk of ice into each one.  When M followed him in, silent in his socked feet, James handed him one of the tumblers.  M raised his in salute before taking a large swallow.

“Cheers...  Christ, I needed that.”

James wordlessly picked up the decanter again to top up the man’s glass before gesturing at a chair.

“Have a seat,” he offered, “and then tell me exactly why the fuck you’re here.”

M settled himself, setting the briefcase carefully onto the floor next to him.  He stared into the roaring fire in the hearth for a moment as if collecting himself.

“No way to sugar-coat it I suppose.”  He said finally.  “I have a job for you.  A little mission, if you will.”

“I’m retired, remember?”  James replied.

“That’s why he needs you.”

“Q, you mean?  I think you’re missing something out.  Start from the beginning?” James prompted, still not understanding quite what M meant.

M nodded and took another large swallow of his drink.  He then rested his wrist on the arm of the chair he sat in, taking care not to touch the fabric with the damp frosted glass.

“Strictly speaking, I don't mean the current Q.  I'm talking about the young quartermaster who moved into the role while you were still active.  You remember him I take it?”

“The boy with the pretty quetzal wings?  How could I forget him?” James said with a smile.  He’d worked with him for a couple of months, all through the affair with Silva.   Q’s wings were stunning.  He remembered meeting him in the National Gallery.  They’d been the first thing James had noticed about him.  Most people’s wings were muted browns, blacks and tans.  Occasionally, like M, they had white feathers in their makeup but even more occasionally they had bright iridescent colours.  Q’s primary and secondary feathers were jet black but the coverts across the top of his wings were a beautiful green.

“He’s hardly a boy.”  M retorted.  “He was a bloody fine quartermaster and a thoroughly nice bloke to boot.  Didn’t deserve what happened to him!”

“What happened exactly?”

“Fuck it.” M replied, running a hand over his face.  James was struck by how tired he suddenly looked.  How tired and how old, as if the weight of Mi6 was on his shoulders, dragging him down. “I’m losing track of myself again.  Haven’t slept for a week it feels like…”  He took a deep breath.  “Look, Mi6 is under attack from within the government.  The double-oh program is under threat…  I won’t bore you with the details… most of it’s classified anyway… but the upshot of it all is that last year Q Branch was audited by some chap on behalf of an agency called the Joint Intelligence Service and as a result Q was accused of stealing.  I tried to defend him but ultimately, he got the push.”

“Jesus…”

“There’s a concerted effort being made to undermine me and getting rid of the people I trust is all part of that effort.  There was an appeal staged but at the end of it all, I think he was lucky not to be imprisoned.”  M took another, smaller sip of his drink.  “He stayed in touch with Tanner and Moneypenny regularly… he even rang me a couple of times see how I was getting on… he seemed to be doing okay.  He hooked up with an old chum of his from school.  This pal is an archaeologist who studying old settlements and burial grounds around the UK and he got Q a job sorting out his geo-mapping equipment.  Everything seemed to be going fine…”

He paused and shook his head.  James waited for a moment and then prompted him to finish by saying;

“But?”

M looked up at him.

“But two days ago, he was reported missing.”

“Missing?  Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I know exactly where he is.”  M replied.  James must have looked surprised so the man reached into his briefcase and drew out a mobile phone.  M turned it on and fiddled with it for a moment before handing it to James. 

The screen showed a map of Scotland, in the south west of which was a small blinking indicator.  James used two fingers to zoom in.  The point highlighted was a mile south of Stuckgowan.  It was less than twenty-five miles from where they were currently sitting. 

“What the hell?”

“Q was developing a ‘smart blood’ tracking system.”  M explained, “When the Joint Intelligent Service started putting the squeeze on his R and D testing budget…”

“He tried it out on himself.”  James said quietly.

“He wanted to get it ready for the field… we lost 005 in an incident… he’d lost consciousness and so the radio he’d been issued with was useless… if we’d have found him just a few hours earlier he might have survived…”  M left the rest unsaid. He didn’t need to elaborate.  James understood the risks.  He’d faced them himself for more years than he cared to remember.  “When Denbigh found out he accused Q of stealing it, tried to get him sent to prison.  Luckily for Q now, it’s still active.”

“So why me?”  James asked.  “Why this visit all of a sudden?”

“I tried to get official backing using the excuse that Q was an ex-member of staff and liable to give up secrets if tortured but to no avail.  I’ve been blocked from using any resources.”

“What about the helicopter?”

“Private transportation.  I’m on my way to Balmoral on official state business.”

“Sounds exciting.”  James said mildly. “But why me?” He repeated.  “Why did you waste time coming all this way to ask me?  What about Moneypenny?  She could have got here just as quick, if not sooner. She’s got field training.”

“She’s also seven months pregnant.”

James blinked in surprise.  He realised that he’d cut himself off when he’d moved to Skyfall but had it really been so long since he’d spoken to Eve, or Tanner for that matter?  Last he’d heard they were about to move in together… 

“It might be risky but there was no-one else I could trust and, well, you’re hardly a million miles away from him…”  James glanced at his watch.  It was five to nine.  M had a point; James could fly to the location pinpointed on the map in less than an hour…  “Please Bond.  We’ve had no word from him at all… Look it might be paranoia on his friend’s part but he said the man was taken.  It might well be all some kind of prank and some old friends engaging in hi-jinks but…”

“But you need to be sure.”  James said grimly.  “Alright.  I’ll check in on him.  If he’s OK I’ll leave him be and let you know.  If not… I’ll see what I can do to help him.”

He left the rest unsaid but M nodded.

“Good.  Thank you.”  He drained his glass.  “Right then, I’ll be off.  Sorry to have disturbed you.”

James watched as he went back into the hallway to put his shoes on and then shrugged on his jacket again.  M went to the door where he paused.

“Bloody good to see you again, Bond.”

With that he was gone, trotting out to the helicopter which immediately began to whine as the engines were fired up.  The two agents assigned to him landed and ran to join him on the aircraft and within five minutes they were gone.

James went back into the house and upstairs to his bedroom where he quickly changed out of his comfortable jogging bottoms and t-shirt and into something a little smarter.  As he dressed he thought about Q. 

James had instantly liked the younger man when he’d met him.  He’d seemed mild enough but he’d had a stubborn streak a mile wide that had surprised James.  He’d been pragmatic too, eager to do what was needed to be done.  Indeed, he’d barely known James five minutes before he’d been willing to put his career on the line in the interests of doing the right thing.  James finished dressing before slipping his old holster on over his shirt.  He then went to the gun safe in one of the spare bedrooms.  From it he extracted his Walther.  He gripped the handle and the lights turned green.  It really was a brilliant piece of kit.  He’d reported it lost after the destruction of Skyfall but then remarkably found it intact in the ruins a few months later.  After a thorough clean, it had been as good as new.  He slipped it into the holster.  As he went to leave the room he paused as he caught sight of himself in the wardrobe mirror. 

He looked like an agent again.

He went to the kitchen and filled a pint glass with water before downing it.  Flying burned a lot of energy and tended to dehydrate if one wasn’t careful.  He’d had a hearty evening meal of stew and dumplings but he paused to eat a couple of bananas too.  Just to be sure.

James wandered through to the lounge and threw another couple of logs onto the fire before picking up the phone that M had left.  The map was still showing the blinking light.  Q hadn’t moved.  He slipped the phone into one of his pockets and then donned a pair of leather gloves.  He didn’t bother with a coat; it would make him overheat in minutes flying, despite the snow in the air.  He would be moving too quickly to get cold.

Stepping outside, the warmth of the house was replaced by bitingly cold air.  As James watched, a couple of fat flakes of snow fell.  Ruffling his feathers, James closed the front door behind him and within a couple of quick steps he was airborne.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

James loved to fly.  Most people simply used it as a way of getting from one place to another but he would fly for fun.  There was nothing to his mind as exhilarating as finding a current of air that would lift him and allow him to soar.  But even flying quickly, his strong wing muscles beating as he gained altitude, felt wonderful.  Maybe it was his upbringing, maybe it was his parent’s influence that had left him with a love of the great outdoors, maybe it was his military training or just the long years spent at Her Majesty's Government's beck and call as a double-oh…  he didn’t know, but after years of loathing the place, returning to Skyfall had allowed him to indulge in his passion.

He used the phone to guide him as he flew.  Q still hadn’t moved but it was difficult to navigate with the heavy, snow-laden clouds obscuring the moon.  As he passed over the deserted moorland, James’s hands steadily grew colder, even with his beating wings circulating his blood quickly and the gloves he wore.  When he eventually reached his destination, forty-three minutes after taking off, his fingers were stiff.

The place he was heading for seemed to be a cluster of old farm buildings.  Rather than land close to them, he set himself down a few hundred yards away.  Crouching, he slipped the phone into his pocket and then took off his gloves before setting about exercising and warming his hands.  If he needed to use the Walther, he needed his hands to be in tiptop shape.

He stood up cautiously and started to walk towards the buildings.  He couldn’t see anyone keeping a lookout but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone lurking.  He wondered what the best course of action would be but without knowing who had taken Q… or even if he had _been_ taken… he was going into the situation blind.  As he neared the building he became aware of the sound of loud music… and raucous laughter.  He relaxed a little.  Maybe Q’s employer had been wrong.  Maybe this was all part of a prank by another group of friends.  Maybe they had ‘kidnapped’ him for a weekend of drunken partying.  The noise was coming from the main farmhouse so James crept up to it, heading for a lit window on the ground floor.  He peered inside.

There were three men and a woman in there.  One of the men was standing on a low coffee table, dancing to the music and the other three were laughing at his antics.  James scanned them quickly.  Q wasn’t there.  Maybe he was in the bathroom?  James decided to loiter a moment, make sure Q was there with his friends and then make a silent exit.  He would inform M that all was well…

…then he saw something that made his blood run cold.

Under the coffee table, next to an impressively large bong, there was a brown paper bag and spilling out of it were dozens and dozens of green feathers, far too big to have belonged to a bird.  They were human, James was sure of it, and his bile rose.  Once, more years ago than he cared to count, James had been taken whilst on a mission in Nevada.  His captors had wanted information about Mi6.  They’d started by pulling his fingernails and when that hadn’t worked, they’d graduated to pulling his feathers.  He had never forgotten the feeling of agony and violation as feather after feather had been plucked.  Looking at the pile of beautiful green feathers now, plucked and thrown on the floor, James felt a surge of anger.  What the fuck had they done with him?

He stalked around to the front of the house and rapped loudly on the front door.  The music was immediately turned down and he could hear confused murmuring.  After a few seconds of hushed argument, the door was opened.  The man was young, little more than a teenager really, and he looked up at James with a scowl.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Q.  Where is he?”

“Who?”

The word had barely left his mouth when James punched him in the throat.  Taking advantage, he grabbed the man’s hair and spun him so his back was to James’s chest.  Whipping out his Walther, James jammed it under his jaw and frogmarched him into the house.  He pushed the man into the lounge where the other three stood, their mouths hanging open.

“The boy with the green wings, where is he?”  James demanded.  “You have ten seconds to tell me or I kill your friend.”

They all seemed to hesitate but then the girl spoke.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

James immediately lowered his gun and shot the man standing next to her in the thigh.  He shrieked in pain as he fell to the floor.  James rammed the gun back under his captive’s jaw and felt him flinch at the now-hot metal.

“Tell me again what I wouldn’t dare do.” He growled, looking her straight in the eye.  “I dare you.”

What little defiance she’d had fled as she watched the pool of blood forming under her friend.  She shook her head as she tucked her chin down to her chest in fright.

“Where is he?” James repeated.

The other man made a move and James immediately trained his gun on him.  He jumped and then put his hands up.  There was a keyring looped over his thumb.

“The barn, man!  He’s in the barn!  Here’s the key… to the padlock.” He held his hand out so James shoved away the man he’d been holding and in one fluid motion had grabbed the other man’s wrist.  Within a second, he had him in the same position, the gun under his jaw.

“We’re going for a little walk.  If I see any of you outside this house, you all die.  Do I make myself understood?”  They all nodded, even the man on the floor as James backed out of the room.  They were all young, little more than teenagers really, and James was pretty confident that he’d scared the living daylights out of them all but it paid to be cautious.

He allowed his new captive enough slack to lead them out into the night.

“Do you have your mobile phone on you?”  James asked.

The man nodded.

“Call an ambulance.  You friend is bleeding heavily.  He needs help.  Do it now.”  The gang were kidnapping arseholes but it was obvious to James that they were also just kids and he didn’t kill kids.  Maybe they’d seen Q with his pretty green wings and it was totally opportunistic when they’d decided to steal his feathers.  Maybe they’d planned it.  It didn’t matter to James.  There would be a sick, thriving black market for feathers like Q’s but he wasn’t about to kill any of them over it.  Rather let the police deal with them.  They would have enough trouble explaining away Q’s feathers, the drug paraphernalia James had spotted and the gunshot wound.  Q was his priority now.  James slowed his captive to a halt outside the barn and waited for him to take out his phone.  He watched as he dialled nine-nine-nine with trembling fingers.

“ _Emergency.  What service do you require?”_

“A…ambulance… and POLICE!  HE’S GOT A GUN AND HE’S…”  The young man started to thrash at the same time as he started to shout, trying to wrench himself away from James and beating his wings madly.  James wasn’t surprised in the slightest.  He could have stopped him immediately but he let him talk just long enough for the dispatcher on the other end of the line to get interested.  He screamed and hollered for a moment more before James used the butt of the Walther to knock him out cold. 

He lowered the man to the ground, carefully checking his pulse and making sure his mobile was still connected.  James could faintly hear the tinny sound of the dispatcher’s raised voice repeating over and over; _‘Sir? Can you hear me Sir?’_ James took a step back and fired off two shots into the ground.  If that didn’t get the police and medical assistance to the farm, nothing would.  He picked up the keyring that the man had dropped and ran the rest of the way to the barn.  There was a padlock securing the door which James quickly unlocked.  Tucking the Walther back into its holster, James pushed open the door.  It was dark inside but James stepped forward cautiously, blinking to try to get his eyes used to the gloom. 

“Q?”

There was a sudden movement but before James could react the back of his head exploded with pain.  He staggered forward, almost falling.  He swore loudly and shook his head.  He looked down to see a length of two-by-four on the floor besides him.  The little shit had walloped him.  Turning, he ran back out of the barn.

He immediately saw Q running out across the moorland.  He was only half-dressed, naked from the waist up and shoeless.  He was stumbling and as James watched, he fell, only to immediately push himself back up onto his feet and carry on running.  James set out after him, taking flight and swooping down on him in seconds.  Even in the moonlight James could see the large bald patch on his right wing. He landed and smoothly enveloped Q in his arms.  Q shouted and started to fight him, flapping his wings, trying to beat him off.

“No!  Get your fucking hands off me you bloody pigeon!”

“Q.  It’s me!  It’s me!”  Q was still fighting so James let go of him long enough to turn him in his arms, grabbing his face as gently as he could to make Q look at him.  “Q, it’s _me_.”  Q finally seemed to focus on James and he sagged slightly, as if in relief.

“B-bond?”  He stuttered.  “What the…?”

His knees gave out from under him and James caught him under his elbows and carefully lowered him to the ground.

“M sent me.” James said.  “I need to get you out of here.  Can you fly?”  Q seemed momentarily confused, reaching out to run his fingers over James’s chest as if he couldn’t quite believe that he was there.  Carefully gathering up Q’s hand to stroke his fingers, James repeated his question.  “Can you fly?”  Q looked at his face then and shook his head.  James realised that his breathing was shallow and he was shivering.  It was freezing cold now and snow was beginning to fall again but James didn’t think that was the biggest of his problems.  He was in shock.  There was no way he could fly.  James cursed his lack of forward-thinking and wished to God he had some clothing to offer him.

Without hesitation James scooped Q up.  He looked up at the night sky.  It was beginning to snow in earnest now and James hadn’t carried someone while flying for some years… but there would be police converging on the farm and there was a chance that Q’s kidnappers might rally themselves and decide to come looking for them…

James hitched Q up in his arms.

“Hold on tight.”

With a little hop, James started to run and within moments he was flying.

 

~00Q~

 

James had forgotten just how bloody hard it was to fly when carrying someone else.  All double-ohs needed to be able to fly carrying a twelve-stone person as a bare minimum and it was this single criterion that weeded out more candidates than any other.  James wasn’t sure that Q weighed anything close to twelve stone but James hadn’t been an active agent for almost five years.  Despite trying to keep himself fit, it was much harder than he’d remembered and by the time he’d reached Skyfall again, his wing muscles and lungs were burning.  He’d had no chance to stop on the way.  Q had been cold when they took off but by the time the house was in sight he was freezing, wet and shivering with the snow that was falling thick and fast. 

James landed with a little less finesse than he’d planned and then went straight for the front door.  He set Q’s feet to the ground, intending for him to stand while he unlocked the door but Q seemed unresponsive, slumping down.  James cursed and held Q to his chest, supporting him as he fumbled the key into the lock. Once it was open he picked Q up again and carried him in, kicking the door to shut it behind them.

He paused for a moment, looking Q over and debating the best course of action.  Q was barely conscious, freezing cold and wet from the thawing snow.  James needed him warm and dry.  Deciding to work on one aim at a time he ran up the stairs to his bedroom.  The fireplace in this room was connected to the flue in the lounge where James had left a fire burning.  It made the room warmer than any other on the first floor but that wasn’t James’s main reason for heading to it.  He needed to get Q into the en-suite bathroom.

Besides the bath, toilet and sink, the room boasted a large shower and it was this that James wanted.  He pushed open the door and gently placed Q in it on the floor.  Reaching up he turned on the faucet and set the temperature to cool.  Mindful of not warming Q up too quickly, he left it to run for a moment before turning up the temperature a little.  He stepped out of the cubical and quickly stripped off his own clothes down to his t-shirt and underpants, before going back into the cubical and dropping to his knees.  He notched up the temperature gauge a little more and then he smoothed Q’s wet hair back off his face before taking his glasses off him.  Q stirred a little and squinted at him muzzily.

“Listen to me.  You’re safe now.  Do you understand? You’re safe.” James said in a low voice.

Q nodded slowly and shivered.  James reached up to turn up the temperature again.  It was beginning to feel warm now.  He took Q’s hands and rubbed them between his own.

“We’re going to get you warm and then take off these wet things.  I’m going to take care of you.”

Q closed his eyes as James let go of his hands.  He ran his fingers down Q’s shin, to let him know what he was doing before reaching under the cuffs of his trousers to pull off his socks.  Despite everything, he smiled at the cute cat designs on them.  They seemed so incongruous and yet so _Q_.  James peeled them off and inspected the soles.  There were spots of blood where Q’s feet had been cut, perhaps from when he was running from James.  He made a mental note to check them once he’d got him into the bedroom.

Q had wrapped his arms around himself and James gently moved them so he could undo his trousers.  Tugging on them Q tried to shift to help him take them off.  After struggling for a moment, James shook his head.

“This isn’t going to work.  Hold on to me.”  He guided Q’s hands up over his neck and then enveloped him in a bear hug, smoothing his hands in under his wings.  Q groaned as James stood up, lifting Q up onto his feet so he could carry on removing his wet clothing. “That’s it.  You’re okay…”

Q immediately started to tremble so James held him close as he reached over and turned up the heat again.  He then pushed down on Q’s trousers and underwear before slowly encouraging to step out of them.  Q felt much warmer now but James held him under the spray for a few minutes more before trying to move Q out of the shower and into the bedroom.  He resisted him, resting his head on James’s chest.  Q smoothed his hands up James’s back.

“Give me a moment… please?”  Q said quietly.  James wasn’t surprised in the slightest.  Q had been under enormous stress since the moment he’d found him and he could only imagine what he’d been through over the past couple of days.  Q had been on a rollercoaster of events and he obviously needed time to adjust and decompress. He drew Q in closer and rested his cheek on the top of his head.

“It’s OK.  Take all the time you need.”

He waited patiently, rubbing soothing circles onto the base of Q’s wings with his fingertips.  After a few moments Q seemed to rouse himself and he looked up at James with a tired smile.

“This wasn’t how I ever imagined taking a shower with you.”

James chuckled.

“You imagined taking a shower with me?”

Q huffed out a little laugh of his own and shook his head as if realising what he’d just said.  James turned the water off and picked him up in his arms again.  Whereas Q had looked like he was in shock when he was cold, he just looked exhausted now.  No wonder, James thought.  He’d been hurt.  He must have been scared.  Now the threat was over, his body was struggling to adjust as the adrenaline stopped flowing.

James carried him through to the bedroom and set him down in the armchair by the fireplace.  Once he was satisfied that Q wouldn’t topple off he went back to the bathroom.  He quickly stripped off his own wet underwear before putting on the bathrobe that hung on the back of the door.  He then grabbed a handful of towels. He quickly went back to him and wrapped a couple of them around him before going to the mantle and taking down the box of matches that he kept there.  Every morning James cleaned out and re-laid the fireplaces around the house so it was a simple matter of lighting the tinder to get the fire going.  Once it had begun to crackle merrily, he turned back to Q.

He took one of the other towels and began to rub it over Q’s wet hair, intending to dry him off as best he could before he put him to bed.  Q sat quietly as James knelt down in front of him and started to rub his chest.

“How are you feeling now?”  He asked him gently.

Q shook his head.

“I… OK…” He said, sounding unsure.

“How do your wings feel?”  Q shrugged lopsidedly.  James left the towel in Q’s lap and began to run his fingertips over Q’s shoulders, pressing down gently looking for sore spots.  Trauma to wings tended to manifest itself as tension across the front of the chest and shoulder.  Q’s right shoulder was tight and no wonder, considering the damage to his right wing.  “I need to take a look at what they did to you.  Are you OK with that or would you rather that we got dressed again and I drove you to the hospital?”

Q seemed almost surprised that James would suggest it and shivered.

“No.  Please.  I don’t want to go.  Is it alright if I stay here tonight?”

It was sweet to think that, despite everything, Q might think that he was imposing on James, but then he considered the way that he’d shut himself away from the world by moving the Skyfall and he really couldn’t blame Q for thinking that way.  He stood up and walked around him.

“Of course, you can.  You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”  He knelt down again and reach out to lightly touch the top of Q’s injured wing.  “We need to deal with this first though…”  Q nodded and dropped his head.  James tried not to notice the way it elongated his neck and made him look vulnerable.   With James’s hands guiding him, Q managed to half-extend his wing.  James was relieved.  If it had been broken there would have been no option but to take Q to hospital.  That wasn’t to say that there might not have been a sprain or even a fracture but those James could deal with.

The exterior of his wing was in a terrible mess though.  There was a huge plucked area and James could see torn skin where feathers had been ripped out.  Even worse than that was the clusters where the feathers hadn’t been plucked but had been broken off.  There was over a dozen broken quills that James could see.  He told Q what he was looking at.

“This all needs to be dealt with or you run the risk of infection.  I need to clean the area and dress it and, I’m so sorry Q, but I need to remove the damaged quills.  I have a painkiller I can give you but it’s going to be rough.  Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to the hospital where they can sedate you first?”

“My name is Tom,” was his quiet reply.

“Tom?”

“I haven’t been Q for a while now…”

“You were _my_ Q.”

Q raised his head then and turned to look at James, a wan smile on his face.

“And that meant a lot to me.  I always felt I could trust you.  There were others after you left…” He hesitated and looked as if he suddenly changed what he was going to say. “I still trust you.”

James smiled back and then stood up.  He went to the bed and pulled back the covers before going back to help Q to his feet again.  He seemed a little stronger now and was able to stand.  The towels fell away and James helped him to walk naked to the bed, and then settle down onto his front.  James quickly checked his feet.  There were a couple of small cuts but nothing concerning.  He would offer Q some plasters for them before he got out of bed again.  James told him a much as he pulled the covers up to his waist and then he said that he would be back soon.

“I need to leave you for a couple of minutes to go and get a few things, OK?”

Q nodded and slipped his hands under the pillow, snuggling down.   James watched him start to relax.  Without thinking, he stroked Q’s still-damp hair back off his face before leaving him to head for the kitchen.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

As James went to get the first aid kit from under the sink, he wondered when it was that Q had last eaten.  He quickly set about making him a cheese and pickle sandwich with the bread he’d made himself that morning while the kettle boiled for tea.  Ten minutes later he was carrying a tray with everything on it back to the bedroom.

He set it down on the bedside table and then put another couple of logs on the fire before sitting on the edge of the bed beside Q.  He appeared to have been dozing but stirred when the mattress shifted.

“Waz…?” He slurred, startled.  James immediately placed a hand on his side.

“Shhh.  It’s only me.  You’re safe, remember?”

Q nodded and relaxed back down onto the pillow.

“Hmmm.  Sorry.  I’m just so tired.”

“I know.”  James said, stroking his hand up the side of Q’s back, in under the warmth of his wing.  “Just try to relax.  Let me sort this out and then you can have something to eat.” 

James opened the first aid kit and put on a pair of nitrile gloves before laying out a sterile paper sheet beside him.  Onto it he placed the things he would need.  Sutures, cleaning pads, dressings, tweezers, everything carefully removed from its sealed packaging.  The last thing he did was take out a number of small syringes, each pre-loaded with a dose of local anaesthetic. “OK Tom.  This might pinch a little.”

Q gave out a small gasp as James slid one of the syringes into the side of the damaged area on his wing.  James waited a moment before repeating his actions a couple of inches away.  He carried on, working his way around the injuries, getting through three syringes before he was satisfied he wouldn’t hurt Q too badly.

“We’ll give that a few minutes and then I’ll get you cleaned up as quickly as I can.”

“Thank you.”  Q said.  “It’s OK.  It can’t be as bad as what they did to me.”

“Why did they take you?”  James asked.  He was pretty sure he knew the answer but he wanted to give Q the opportunity to talk about what had happened. Maybe process it a little.

“They wanted my feathers.  The stupid fuckers.  They mobbed me at the supermarket.  They were obviously all high on something… there were too many of them… I couldn’t fight them off…” James picked up the tweezers and slid his hand in under Q’s wing to steady it.  He watched as Q tensed up.  “They kept saying they were going to sell them… one of them was boasting that he knew a guy… I don’t think they knew what the fuck they were doing though… _fuck!_ ”  He jumped as James smoothly plucked one of the broken quills.

“Sorry…”

“No… it’s fine… it needs to be done… It’s better than having them ripped out by the handful.”

James smoothly pulled another, making Q flinch again.

“Try to relax.  I know it’s difficult.”

“Get plucked a lot, do you?”  Q groused.

“I was once.”  James replied as another came free. “Once was enough.”

Q looked over his shoulder at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Really.”  He pressed his hand lightly onto the back of Q’s shoulder.  “Just lie still.”  He took out another two quills and added them to the pile that was mounting up on the sterile sheet.  He paused.  “I was tortured.  They started on the nails on my left hand.  After a while they went onto my feathers.  I preferred them taking the nails to be honest.  I’d never known pain like it.”

Q went quiet, holding himself still, as James carried on, quickly removing the rest of the broken quills and a couple of the more badly damaged feathers.  Once he was done, he took out the suture kit.

“I’m going to give you a couple of stitches and then it’ll be over.”

Q nodded and James noticed he had tears in his eyes.  He thought he would stay quiet but then he spoke again.

“They wouldn’t stop.”  James paused what he was doing.  “I tried to fight them off but they wouldn’t stop.  I was screaming.”

He started to tremble and James could see he was desperately trying not to cry.  He put down the kit and peeled off his gloves.  Leaning over Q he gently buried his fingers in his soft hair and slipped his other hand in under the pillow, groping for Q’s.  When he found it, Q held on tight.

“It’s going to be OK.” James said.

Q’s tears started to fall as a sob wracked his body.  James shushed him and held him as close as he could.  He curled over Q while he cried, pressing soft kisses onto his temple to comfort him.  Eventually Q started to apologise, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t… It’s over now, I know that.”

“Don’t…” James soothed.  “Don’t be sorry.  You’ve been through so much and I’m almost done now.  Let me finish what I’m doing and you can finally get some rest.”

Q nodded, burying his face into his pillow again.  James put the gloves back on and quickly set about stitching the worst of the damage to his wing.  Seven stitches later he was satisfied and he put the needle down.  He took a tube of antiseptic cream and carefully dabbed it over the sore skin before picking up a dressing pad and carefully placing it on top.  There was another needle and thread in the first aid kit but this one wasn’t designed to stitch skin.  This was to attach the pad to a wing instead of using sticky tape which might damage healthy feathers.  James quickly finished off, stitching through the edges of the pad before winding the thread around the bases of the nearby feathers.  Once it was secure he took off the gloves and wrapped up all of the rubbish into the paper sheet before putting the whole bundle in the bin beside the bed.  He smoothed his hand down the centre of Q’s back.

“All done.  Can you sit up?”

With a little help Q was able to turn over and push himself up on his hands.  James fluffed up the pillows behind him and helped him to sit back, waiting patiently as he settled his injured wing.  Once he was comfortable, Q pulled the duvet up over his naked chest.

James leaned over and picked up the tea he’d made.

“There you go.”

Q took the mug and sipped at it. The sound he made was positively obscene.

“Ooh, that’s good tea.  That’s perfect.”

James took the plate of sandwiches off the tray and placed it on Q’s lap.

“Try to eat some of this.  You probably don’t feel much like eating but you’ll sleep better on a full stomach.”

Q thanked him again and picked up one of the sandwiches.  He took a tentative bite and then made another orgasmic sound.

“Mmmm.  This is lovely!  Did you make the bread?”

James nodded, chuckling.

“I would never have pegged you as someone who actually enjoys their food.  You don’t look like you eat at all…”

Q swallowed his mouthful of sandwich and cleared his throat.

“Piss off, Bond.”  He said, good-naturedly.

That made James laugh out loud as Q immediately took another bite.  He picked up the mug of coffee he’d brought upstairs for himself and sipped at it, watching Q as he devoured the food.  The duvet had fallen away again and James couldn’t take his eyes off him.  He was lean, that was true, but muscles in his chest and arms bunched and shifted as he moved.  James wondered if he flew for pleasure as well.  He certainly did something to keep himself so fit.  He never would have imagined that Q would have such a beautiful body under his hideous cardigans and tweed jackets when they worked together at Mi6.  If James had suspected he might have taken him out to dinner a few times, tried to woo him into…

“Earth to James?”

James blinked and snapped out of his daydreaming to see Q smiling at him, a quizzical look on his face.  He’d finished the sandwiches and was cradling his cup of tea again.  James automatically took the empty plate and put it back on the tray.

“Sorry.  Miles away.”

“I could see that.”  Q replied.  “I was asking you if you live alone here.”

“I do.  More or less.  The estate’s old gamekeeper lives nearby.  He calls in most days.”

“It must be very lonely.”

“Most of the time it’s not.  The solitude is nice.  I do my own thing.  Maintain the house.  I have my hobbies, I paint sometimes, I read, I fly.”

“You fly?”  Q asked.

“Yes.  It’s good exercise.  I enjoy it.  Being out in the fresh air, seeing the world from a different perspective.”

“Sounds nice.  I never got the hang of it myself.”

James was stunned.

“You don’t fly?  But everybody flies.”

“That’s a bit like saying everybody rides a bike,” said Q, “we don’t if we never learned.”

James couldn’t believe it.  He thought back to the rescue.  When Q had said he couldn’t fly James had assumed it was because of his injuries, not because _he couldn’t fly_.  Q laughed.

“You look like that little bit of news has broken you.” Q said with a smile.  “Your face! Does not compute.  Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred pounds…”

James drank the last of his coffee and then shook his head.

“I confess I find it strange.  OK, answer me this; why ever not?  You have a beautiful pair of wings.”

Q’s cheeks pinked up a little at James’s words.

“That’s exactly why.”  He said.  James must have looked confused so he elaborated.  “My parents were thrilled when I fledged at the age of two and they realised that I had such eye-catching colours, but my mother took it to extremes.”

“Oh?”

“She signed me up to a modelling agency and began dragging me out to auditions and casting calls.  I was forever being photographed and filmed.  I was never allowed to just go out and play because there was always something coming up that I needed to keep my wings in tip-top condition for.”  Q paused for a moment, lost in thought, and he suddenly looked sombre.  “My education started to suffer.  It all came to a head when I was eleven.  Despite everything I’d managed to get a place at the local Grammar School but my mum didn’t want me to go.  She wanted to ‘home school’ me so that she could carry on pushing me into modelling contracts.  My dad was furious and they ended up divorcing over it.  I went to live with my dad and got to go to the school and managed to enrol at Oxford for my first degree by the time I was fifteen.  Mum realised too late that it was what I truly wanted.”

“Why was it too late? It sounds like you ended up with a marvelous education.”

“It was too late to fly.  All those years,” Q said a little sadly, “all those years spent indoors; keeping my wings clean, keeping away from the rough boys in the park, all those years that I should have been playing with kids of my own age, using my wings, building them up…”

“You were never allowed to do any of the things that kids need to do to learn to fly.”  James finished for him.

“Bingo.”  Q said.

“I can help you.”  James said, “If you’d like me to.  I did PT instruction in the Navy for a while.  I could help you to exercise them, teach you to use them.”

Q laughed again.

“Oh, I can just see that happening!  You barking orders at me out on the frigid heathland!!”

James smiled.

“I couldn’t be that cruel.”

“Why, because you’ve mellowed in your old age?”

“Because it’s _you_.”

The words were out before James realised what he’d said.  Q seemed to pause and then the adorable pink glow touched his cheeks again.

“Well.  There’s an offer.”  He said quietly.  The room seemed to suddenly warm up and James shifted, he might even have leaned over for a kiss, but at that exact moment Q yawned.

“No frigid heathland for you tonight.”  James said, taking the now-empty mug out of Q’s hands.  “You need some sleep.”

Q nodded and slowly turned over, moving stiffly.  James helped him to get comfortable, trying to ignore the way Q’s skin felt warm and smooth under his touch.  Once he was settled, lying on his front with the duvet tucked up under his wings, James stood up.  He quickly put a couple extra logs on the fire to ensure it would keep burning until morning and then walked back to the bed to pick up the tray.  Q immediately reached out for him and James let him take his hand.  He looked up at him sleepily.

“Thank you.  For everything.”

James squeezed his hand gently before letting go.

“Sleep well.  I’ll be here if you need me.”

Q was asleep by the time James reached the door.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

James jerked awake to the sound of the upstairs toilet flushing.  He sat up, confused for a moment, before the events of the previous night came flooding back.  He was sitting in his favourite armchair with a blanket over his knees.  He’d come to the lounge the night before to have a few drinks and to the fight the overwhelming desire he’d had to just go back upstairs, strip off his dressing gown and cuddle down with Q. 

Jesus, that man. 

Maybe it had been a deliberate act of repression but he’d actually managed to forget just how damn attractive Q was.  James had always had a thing for brunettes but he’d also learned over the years not to give in to those things when dealing with co-workers.  Especially co-workers like Q who he’d admired and enjoyed working with so much.  It was true that he’d only known Q for a short amount of time and most of that time had been spent with the threat of Silva hanging over them but even so… despite James seeing him stripped naked the night before all he could think about was the way his eyes shined when he smiled.

He was disturbed by the sound of the phone Mallory had given him ringing.  He picked it up tentatively.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.  Did you find him?”

M’s words were quick and to the point.  Aware that the line might not be secure, James responded in kind.

“I have him.  He’s going to be fine.”

“Going to be?”

“A few injuries.  Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good.  Contact me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

The line went dead.

James put down the phone and got up.  He went to the kitchen to put the kettle on to boil and then went to the bedroom where Q was.  He was surprised to find him perched on the side of the bed, the duvet barely covering his lap.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?  Did you sleep well?”

As he walked over to him, James realised the answer to his first question was ‘not good’.  Q looked pale and drawn.

“I did but I woke up because I needed to piss something fierce… I didn’t realise until I got up how sore I am… my wing mainly but my shoulders and my back too.  I’m so stiff.”

James sat beside him and reached over to place his hand on Q’s shoulder.  He could feel the muscles were as tight as a drum so he started to smooth his fingers over them.

“I’m not surprised after everything that you’ve been through.  It’s no good you staying here like this though; you should be tucked up in bed in the warm.”

“I know,” Q said tiredly, “but I got this far and seemed to run out of energy.”

“Come on.  Let’s get you back in and then I’ll see if I can’t help you with your stiffness.”

Q raised a questioning eyebrow, a smile lightly touching his lips.

“Cheeky tart.” James commented as he helped Q to settle down again. 

He went to the bathroom and washed his hands before getting a bottle of massage oil from the cabinet above the sink.  Coming back into the room he saw that Q was snuggled down onto his front.  James put the oil on the bedside table and then went to his chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of jogging pants.  Slipping them on, he took off the robe he’d been wearing since the night before and tossed it onto the chair by the fire.  He shook his wings to settle them as he walked back over to the bed. Q was watching him, an unreadable expression on his face. James sized him up for a moment. 

“Do you trust me?”

 “Yes.” Q answered without hesitation.

“OK then.”

James tugged down the covers until they just covered Q’s bum and then climbed over him, straddling him with his knees either side of Q’s hips.

“What the...?”

Q tried to shift but James leaned forward, placing his hands on the back of his shoulders.  He’d washed them in the hottest water he could stand to make sure they felt warm and soothing.

“Stretch your wings out for me if you can.”

Q seemed to hesitate and then extended his wings.  James felt the muscles in his back begin to strain with the effort, especially on the right side.  “Easy, just relax and try not to overextend yourself.  Tell me the moment anything hurts.”  He slowly moved his fingers to the top of his wings.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”  He added.

He began with Q’s wings, running his hands over the humerus and radius and searching out any tight spots.  The right wing was sore, James could tell, so he was careful not to put too much pressure on it but he went through the motions, smoothing it and gently guiding Q into moving it before massaging the left one.  After a few minutes of allowing Q to get used to the feeling of having James’s hands on him, he moved back to his shoulders.

Q sighed as soon as James’s hands closed around the base of his neck and he shifted, pushing up into his touch and moaning quietly.  James shushed him and he relaxed with another sigh as the knots in his shoulders started to ease off. His fingers, which had been laid flat either side of his head suddenly flexed, gripping the pillow as James found another tight spot.

“Oh God…” he breathed.  “That feels so good…”

James smiled to himself as he continued to work.  The skin under his hands warmed delightfully as the tightness eased.  Q shifted, moving his hips under James, and James suddenly realised what a bad idea it had been to get Q into this position.  The young man began to move rhythmically and James wasn’t sure if he was trying to get comfortable or humping the mattress below himself.  James found another tight spot at the back of Q’s right shoulder and he moaned as James started to work the ball of his thumb over it.  James’s mouth went dry as he realised that Q was reacting as if James was making love to him, not massaging him.  He swallowed hard, uncomfortably aware of the effect it was having on his own body, the loose jogging bottoms he was wearing doing nothing to help James control the erection that was growing in them.  James shifted his hips away from Q, trying to put some space between them and watched as the young man immediately pushed back, keeping their bodies flush.

“Q…”

“Call me Thomas… please.”

“What do you want, Thomas?”  James asked, watching as his hands began to tremble as they smoothed over Q’s skin. “What do you need?”

“I want you to touch me.”  Q begged quietly.

James leaned forward so his next words were a breath the back of Q’s neck. 

“I am touching you…”

It was Q’s turn to shiver.

“I want more…”

James kissed the back of Q’s neck softly. 

“More?”

“Make love to me?  Please.”

Q sighed as James began to slowly follow the path of his spine down to the small of his back, kissing him all the way.  He moved his hands to Q’s sides and then smoothed them down to his hips, still massaging him, as he paused.

“And now?”

“Don’t stop.”

James pushed down the covers to reveal Q’s buttocks and kissed each of them in turn, kneading the flesh.  They were so petite they almost fit perfectly into James’s large hands. He gripped both of them lightly, marvelling at the brief glimpse it gave him of the furl hidden between them.

“What about now?”  He asked softly, licking lightly at the base of his spine.  “Tell me what you want.”

“Please…”

Q’s whined plea was accompanied by him pushing his hips up and what little self-control, what little chance James had of not making love to him, vanished.  With a moan James pushed apart Q’s buttocks and licked a thick stripe up between them.  Q shuddered and pushed back again.  James gripped him a little tighter to stop him from wriggling and licked him again.

There was a power that came with rimming certain men and James was delighted to find that he held that power over Q.  Every time James’s tongue touched that most intimate park of him was like the first.  Q was so sensitive that even a breath blown across the wet skin had him mewling like a kitten and arching, burying his face in the pillow as he humped the mattress below him.  Tugging the duvet down further James slid his hand in under him and was rewarded by Q’s erection sliding perfectly into the palm of his hand.  James closed his fist around him and Q panted and started a small to-and-fro motion, pushing his arse into James’s face before fucking into his willing fist.

“Oh, you perfect thing…” James muttered before pushing out his tongue to see if Q could fuck himself onto it.  He could and his movements became smooth as he realised that James wasn’t going to suddenly move away.  James wasn’t going anywhere.  He settled himself, pressing his own erection into the soft bedding beneath him as he let Q use his fist and his tongue to take his pleasure.  He watched as Q undulated, his pretty green wings still spread wide, bracketing the tight pale globes of his bottom as they flexed and relaxed.  James reached in with his other hand and cupped his balls, encouraging his movements.  “That’s it.”  He whispered, in between licks.  “Good boy, are you going to come for me?”  Q whined and James saw him nod his head.  He was so warm now and shuddering on every forward stroke into James’s fist.  “Come on then.  Come for me now.”

James wasn’t sure if it was his words or just perfect timing but Q shuddered and James felt him pulse into his hand.  When he tried to slow his movements James took over, stroking him firmly, using Q’s come as lube and pressing his tongue deeper inside him.

“Oh OH!” Q tried to twist away but James moved with him, leaving his balls alone to grip his hip and control his movements, encouraging Q to push up onto his knees.  “James…”  Q threw his head back and moaned loudly, dropping his shoulders to the bed and allowing James free access once more.  He grasped at the pillow, almost tearing it as James felt him tighten up again.  “Oh God I’m going to come again.  You utter bastard, you’re going to make me come again, oh my fucking Christ…hnnnnnggh!!!”  Q uttered a low guttural moan as James suddenly sped up his stroking and milked another orgasm out of him.

Q collapsed onto the bed and James let him go this time.  After giving his right buttock a final kiss, he got up and went to the bathroom.  He washed his hands again and debated having a quick wank to get rid of his erection.  Deciding it could wait, he grabbed a towel instead and took it into the bedroom.

Q was still sprawled in exactly the same position so James gently helped him to raise his hips so that James could place the towel under him, protecting him from the wet patch he’d made.  He then pulled the duvet back up over him.

“Your massages are great…” Q slurred.  “I don’t think I have a tense muscle left in my body…”

James chuckled and sat down beside him.

“It wasn’t quite what I intended…but I found I was just too tempted…”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Q said.  James raised an eyebrow, questioning.  Q blushed, despite the position he’d been in not five minutes before. “I always had the biggest crush on you...”

“Had?”

Q giggled and buried his face in the pillow.

“ _Have_.” Came the muffled reply.

James smiled and reached out to stroke Q’s hair.

 “I could say the same.” James admitted. “Will you get up and have some breakfast with me now?”

Q looked up again. 

“In a little while.  Lie down with me first?”

James felt a sudden pang of guilt.  He’d taken what he wanted from Q without offering him any real affection in return.  The old M, his M, had once called him a cold-hearted bastard.  Perhaps it was a good time to say goodbye to that selfish man.  James stood up and slipped off his jogging bottoms.  He walked around the bed naked and then slipped in under the covers.  Q immediately turned to him, pressing himself along his side.  He felt wonderfully warm and James immediately felt his cock harden again.  He turned his head and then Q was kissing him, soft brushes of their lips quickly deepening until their tongues were tangling. James moaned softly as he felt Q’s fingers trail down his belly.

“Thomas…” He sighed as Q’s fingers closed around the shaft.  His hands were so much slimmer than James’s… and he hadn’t been touched by anyone else for years… since Silva’s woman Severine in fact.  He slid his hand up into the back of Q’s hair as he started to stroke him.  James kissed him again and dropped his head back onto the pillow.  “Shit…”

“You didn’t come, did you?”  Q asked quietly, dropping his head to kiss the side of James’s neck.  James shook his head.  “You made me come twice and you didn’t even think about yourself.  Do you have any what a turn-on that is?”  James shook his head again.  He hadn’t thought about it that way…  He gasped at Q lightly bit one of his nipples.  Suddenly too hot, James kicked off the duvet, eager to see Q’s hand on him. 

It was mesmerising, watching Q’s nimble fingers stroke up over his shaft then then down again, gathering up the liquid from the tip and smoothing it over his foreskin.  One part of him wanted Q to grip him tighter, to force his foreskin down and away from the sensitive glans but another part of him wanted Q to keep right on doing what he was doing.  Teasing and playing with James’s cock until he felt fit to explode.

James moaned, low and guttural, when Q suddenly scooted down the bed and licked across the head of his cock.  He glanced up at James before doing it again and really, how in the hell James’s brain took that exact moment to decide that Q’s eyes were the same stunning green as his wings, he would never know…  Q grinned and slid his hand up James’s cock, squeezing it, forcing a dribble of precome out.  He dipped his tongue into James’s bunched-up foreskin and lapped at him.  He did it over and over until there was no more liquid and then stroked him firmly, finally pulling back his foreskin before sucking him into his mouth.

It felt like heaven, or as close to heaven as an old sinner like James Bond would ever get.  He found himself helpless to do anything but lie back and watch as Q took him in over and over again until James was trembling with the effort to not just grab Q’s head and fuck his wicked mouth.  Q must have been able to tell because every time James got to the point where he was getting desperate, he would pull off a little, allowing cool air into his mouth to dampen James’s ardour just enough.  Eventually Q pulled away and kissed James’s hip, his hand still stroking teasingly.

“When was the last time you were tested?” 

James tried to process the question, which wasn’t easy when it felt like his balls had been on the verge of exploding for the past half hour.

“Um, six… eight months ago… I have an annual review at my GPs…”

“Were you clean?”

“Yes.”

“Have you fucked anyone since then?  Been fucked by anyone?”

“What?  No.  There hasn’t been anyone for years…”

“Good.  Do you trust me?”

It was an echo of James’s earlier question.  Without hesitation he answered;

“Yes.”

Q knelt up and grabbed the bottle of massage oil.  Opening it, he drizzled a generous amount up the length of James’s cock.  It was cold and made him shiver but it soon warmed up when Q reached down to smear it over him.  He then used his oily fingers to reach back behind himself.

“Oh darling…” James muttered.

Q knelt over him and smiled down.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this with you…”

They both moaned as Q eased down, pressing James inside himself with a slick hand.  James reached out and rested his hands onto Q’s thighs as he started to rock, easing himself back onto James’s long cock.  He shivered as he bottomed out and then began to rotate his hips as if relishing the stretch.  James gazed up at him as he unfurled his wings halfway, fluttering them in time with his movements.  He looked beautiful.  He threw his head back and pushed out his hips and James automatically went to grab his cock.  Q stopped him by linking their hands, interlacing their fingers and using them to push back onto James’s cock with more force.

“No… don’t make me come like that again.  I want see if I can come like this… just on your cock like this.  Christ, it’s so BIG.”

James laughed.  He couldn’t help it.  Twenty-four hours ago, he’d been alone and now?  He had this beautiful boy - no, this beautiful _man_ \- riding him like a bloody porn star. Q paused and James saw he was struggling to get his feet up under himself.  James let go of Q and slid his hands under Q’s thighs to support him until he was squatting over him.

“Fuck me.” Q pleaded.  “Please James.”

James didn’t need to be told twice and he pushed up, sliding his cock into Q.  With Q’s new position, James could see every inch disappear.  At any other time, James might have been tempted to just throw Q back onto the bed and fuck him, pound into him, but he’d been hurt and James didn’t want to risk hurting him again.  Q shivered and threw his head back as James set up a rhythm. 

“Harder.  Oh James, _harder_.” Q snapped his hips in time with James’s thrusting, almost bouncing on him, and began to pant.  He seemed intent on coming for a third time.

James wondered how alike they really were.  Q had been abused by his kidnappers and yet he obviously craved a physical connection now.  How many times had James tried to fuck away the emotional, and sometimes physical, traumas of his work as an agent?  And how many times had he failed?  James watched as Q started to shudder and he suddenly realised he didn’t want Q to make himself come like that, forcing his body to react to the pounding his prostate was getting from James’s cock.

James sat up and wrapped an arm around him, drawing him down back onto his knees and into James’s lap.  Q tried to push off him again but James held him close to his chest, kissing his nipple while slipping a hand between them.

“No.  Like this...  Easy.  Slow.”

He began to stroke him and for a moment it seemed as if Q was going to fight him but then he relaxed, sagging into James’s lap.

“James…”  Q resting his hands on James’s shoulders as James drew his knees up, keeping Q exactly where he wanted him.

“Slowly darling.  Slowly.”  James repeated.  Q ducked his head then and kissed him, beginning to rock gently.  “That’s it.  Good boy.”  James’s hand was already wet with Q’s precome but he snagged the oil off the side table and poured some into his palm.  He slipped it between them and began to stroke again.  “I’m so close.  You feel so good, gripping me so tightly.  If you come again I’m pretty sure you’ll make me come.  Will you do that for me?  Will you make me come?”  Q kissed him again and whimpered.

“Yes… I’m going to come again… Oh James…”

James felt it on his own cock first, the rhythmic clenching of Q’s body as he reached another orgasm.  He clamped his arm around him tight, holding him fast and stroking him quickly as he began to buck.  James felt everything pool into the base of his belly and then he was coming, pulsing and filling Q.  He moaned, long and low and then Q began kissing him, slipping his tongue into his mouth, and whimpering as his cock jumped in James’s hand and it became slick with his come again.

Eventually, the climax passed for both of them and Q slumped down, wrapping his arms around James and burying his face in the side of his neck.  James tried to pull back to see if Q was alright but that only seemed to make him cling on even tighter.  He started to tremble.

“Tom?”

Q didn’t answer, he just shook his head, keeping his face hidden.  James waited a moment and then shifted them until his cock slipped free so he could lay Q down, not wanting to let go of him.  The duvet was out of reach so James spread out one of his wings over Q, wrapping it around him.  He held him close as he slowly relaxed.  James didn’t say anything.  He could tell that something wasn’t right with Q but he didn’t want to press him.  They could talk again later, if Q wanted that.  Instead James lay quietly, with Q pressed up against his chest, cocooned in the soft warmth of his wing until he drifted back off to sleep.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

James was awoken by the feeling of the cool pillow under his hand.  He squinted at the clock on his bedside table and saw it was twenty past twelve.  Q was gone.

He rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, quickly washing himself at the sink before retrieving his jogging bottoms from the bedroom floor where he’d dropped them and slipping them on.  He looked for his dressing gown but it was gone too so he found himself a clean t-shirt to wear before leaving the room in search of Q.

He found him in the lounge, sitting on one of the wide window seats, his feet tucked up under himself.  James’s robe was too big on him and it swamped him, making him look smaller somehow.  James went to him and sat down beside him, perching on the edge of the seat.

“Hello.  Alright?”

Q had been gazing out of the window at the moorland beyond but he looked at James when he spoke.  He looked tired, with dark patches like bruises under his eyes.  He shrugged and looked back out of the window.

“I came down here to look for my clothes.” Q said quietly.  “Then I remembered I wasn’t really wearing any when I got here last night.”

“Your things have been washed,” James replied, “They’re in the utility room hanging up to dry.  Why do you want them so soon though?  Are you thinking of going somewhere?  If you are I’ll need to lend you some things.  You’ll need something a little warmer than just your trousers and your underwear…”

Q nodded and drew his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them.  He looked out the window again.  It had begun to snow again and the ground was looking decidedly white.

“I think I should go.” He said.  “I think I’ve made quite enough of a fool of myself and I don’t want to out stay my welcome.  You must value your privacy… it’s quite lovely here.”

James watched him for a moment.  When it became apparent that Q wasn’t going to say anything else, James took his hand and brought it up to his lips.  He kissed the back of it softly.  Q looked up at him.

“I don’t think you should go just yet,” James said, “I’m not quite sure how you can think that you’ve been foolish and I might value my solitude but that doesn’t mean it can’t be shared.”

Q shook his head.

“I _am_ a fool… Jesus… I acted like a complete slut when all you were trying to do was help me feel better…”

“Did coming three times not help you to feel better?”  James asked, squeezing Q’s fingers gently.  He thought Q might smile at that but instead his face flushed and he turned his head away from James.  Realising his mistake James scooted in and put his arm around him.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you…”

He thought that Q might resist him but then he slumped, relaxing into James’s arms.  He sighed.

“I’m sorry.  I just… I wanted it… I wanted _you_ … Ever since I first met you and when you put your hands on me…”

“Irresistible, huh?”

“Oh, fuck off!” Q laughed, elbowing him in the ribs, but then he looked sombre again. “I’m trying to tell you…  You’d helped me.  You didn’t have to and I’d been so scared and then I go and fuck you within five minutes of waking up and…”  He trailed off, shrugging again.

“You think that using sex as a way to blow off steam, of de-stressing - using physical intimacy as a kind of cathartic act - you think that’s a bad thing?”  Q looked up at him again, his expression soft and questioning.  “Because I don’t.”  James said, smiling.  He leaned forward and kissed him.  Q leaned into it, sliding his hand up around the back of James’s neck and up into his hair, scratching lightly.  They broke off and James rested his forehead on Q’s.  “I think it was just what you needed.  I think it helped you and I’m the last person who would ever judge you for that.”  He kissed him again.  “How do you think I stayed sane all those years out in the field?”

“I’m not sure I’d ever have called you that…”

James smiled at that as Q sat up, pushing up into their kiss. 

“I might not have been the poster boy for healthy mental attitudes at the best of times,” James continued, “but fucking after a traumatic event… I always found it to be a wonderful, physical way of letting off some steam…” he trailed off, taking in the way that Q was looking at him and remembered his shy admission of having wanted James for the longest time.  He also remembered his own thoughts the night before and the attraction he’d felt for him ever since the day they’d met and added;

“It could also be the start of something quite wonderfully unexpected.  If you wanted.  Stay with me.  Take your time to recover.  Let me look after you, even if it's just for a little while.  Please?”

Q smiled then and James couldn’t help it, he had to kiss him again.  He held on to him, slipping his hand up under his robe to feel the smooth skin of his thigh and…

They both jumped as there was sharp rap on the window.

They looked up to see Kincade glaring in at them.  James chuckled and stood up before helping Q to stand. 

“Come and meet the gamekeeper I was telling you about…”

He went to the front door and unlocked it, letting the older man in.

“Alright Kincade?”

“Aye, and why would I not be?  Ye shoo me out of here last night with ye tales of strange men coming here and impending trouble,” he grumbled, his thick Scottish brogue indicating the foul mood he was in.  “An’ I spend the whole night worrying about ye until I come here all het up and ready to save yer arse and fight the invader only to find that he’s a pretty boy and likely the only thing _he’s_ invading is yer bed!  Kissing!  I find ye kissing him!  Hello, by the way laddie, the name’s Kincade.”  At his last words, he stuck his hand out to Q.  He shook it with a smile.

“Thomas.  Charmed.” Q replied with a grin.

“Aye, so ye should be.”  Kincade said with a wink.  “Come on then Jamie.  Is that kettle on yet?  I’ll be having a cup of tea with a nip of something frisky in it to compensate for the cold flight over here!”

 

~00Q~

 

Q stayed.

 

He didn’t move in with James all at once, not at first.  He stayed for a week until he was fit enough to go back to work in the little lab that he’d built in the spare room of his flat in Perth.  He hadn’t wanted to go but they both understood that moving quickly into a new relationship probably wasn’t the best thing for either of them.  Especially in light of the way that they had been thrown back together.  So he had visited, coming back the following month for a weekend, then three weeks after that for a long weekend and then again two weeks after that and a week after that until they realised that their previously lonely lives had been eclipsed by the comfort of being together.

Eventually, when the lease came up for renewal on his flat, Q’s landlord (the owner of the building he was living in) had sheepishly asked if Q wouldn’t mind not renewing.  His wife had become pregnant and they needed a place a little bigger than the one-bedroomed flat they currently lived in.  When Q had mentioned that he would need to find a new place to live, James had quickly suggested Q move in with him; just while he looked for something else…

 

~00Q~

 

James was sitting reading the day’s news on his tablet when Q padded into the kitchen, yawning his head off.  He was dressed in just his boxer shorts and his hair and feathers were a tousled mess.  His two cats, Clarke and Turing, ran to greet him while mewing pathetically.

“Don’t believe them.  I fed them an hour ago.”  James commented without looking up.

Q hummed in what sounded like agreement.  James grinned.  His young lover was a wreck in the morning before his first cup of tea.  He watched as he sleepily flicked on the kettle and then shuffled over to the fridge to get himself a glass of orange juice.  James put down his tablet and went up behind him, cupping his hips and gently steering him towards his chair.

“Sit,” he commanded quietly, kissing the top of Q’s head when he did as he was told, “and I’ll make you tea and eggs.”

Q nodded and groped for the tablet, flicking over to the Tech page on the BBC News app.

“Uh-huh.”

James grinned and busied himself at the counter making Q’s tea along with another coffee for himself.  They had been living together for almost six months and James still couldn’t get over the thrill of sharing his life with Q.  Even like this, first thing in the morning when Q was a sleepy, bemused, befuddled, grumpy mess.  James set a mug of tea down in front of Q (strong Earl Grey, splash of milk, two sugars – just how he liked it) and then went to the stove to cook their breakfast.

By the time he brought two plates loaded with Eggs Benedict to the table, Q had finally woken up fully.  He smiled as James passed him his plate and cutlery.

“Thanks Mum.” He teased.

“Fuck off.” James replied mildly as he set about eating his own.

They sat in a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of their cutlery occasionally clinking.  When Q finally sat back, taking the final gulp of his tea he noticed James smiling at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.  It’s just good to see you enjoying your food.”

Q rolled his eyes, smiling back as he picked up the tablet.  James watched him for a moment and then said softly;

“It’s beautiful out there today.”

Q hummed in agreement.

“The sky is clear…”

Q put down the tablet again, looking mildly irritated.

“James…”

“Look, I know that Eve and Bill and baby Kate are due into the train station at two today but that gives us plenty of time for us to try again.  You were so close to taking off on your own last time and you looked so beautiful and you’ll realise how much you love flying if you can just make it on your own up into the thermals where you can soar and…”

The look of annoyance faded and Q started to laugh, stopping James mid-sentence. 

“You can be such silly sod James.  How long have you been practising that speech?”

“Since I got up at six.”

Q reached over and took James’s hand.

“I shall get nibbled to death by midges.”  Q said, talking about the tiny highland flies which had seemed to love biting him every time he ventured outside ever since the weather started to warm up.

“They wouldn’t dare touch you.” James growled.

“And I suppose you’re going to protect me from each and every one of them?”

“I’ll fight each and every one of them personally.”  James replied, raising their hands so he could kiss the back of Q’s. “Punch them in their stupid midgy faces.  I’m the only one who gets to nibble on you.”  He proved his point by nipping at Q’s fingers.

Q laughed again, pulling his hand away.

“Alright then, you’ve convinced me.” Q said after a pause.  “Just for an hour or so though…”

 

~00Q~

 

James stood out on the hillside overlooking Skyfall and watched as Q flapped his wings, warming them up.  The green feathers were iridescent in the early morning light and James was reminded yet again how lucky he was to have Q back in his life. Ever since springtime they had been coming out here as Q learned to fly.  Now, if James carried him up high enough he could soar but taking off had proved elusive.  He was so close though.  James could feel the power of the moving air as Q beat his wings.  He was stripped to the waist, they both were, and James looked on with admiration at Q.  His wing had fully recovered and the months of exercise had toned Q's body up delightfully. As James watched Q lifted his chin as he mentally prepared himself.

“Don’t overthink it, Sweetheart.  Find your rhythm as you pick up speed and it will just happen.  You’re so close…” James said softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Q turned his gaze to him and grinned. 

“Let’s do this.” He replied and, with a little hop, Q spread his wings and started to run.

 

_~The End ~_

 

 


End file.
